The Hangover
by eilatansayah
Summary: Sequal to 'Bromance And All That Jazz'. Hope you enjoy.


**This story follows the morning after 'Bromance And All That Jazz'. The idea was suggested by 'mcll123' who is so supportive and always takes the time to review my work and I wanted to do something back, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thank you, you have no idea how much the feedback spurs me on x x**

:

If it's possible I don't think I've ever been in as much pain. It's like someone has reached into my skull and started squeezing my brain and the only thing that prevents this is staying absolutely still. I also feel sick, the feeling is sitting at the point where mouth meets oesophagus and I know I've already done it because my mouth tastes of it – and the room permeates the retched smell. I don't know what's happened, I can't recall what's happened and I also think that's for the best.

Ideally I like to stay in my horizontal position in my bed for some time but I have two issues. One: the sun is streaming through a gap in my curtains and falling squarely in my eyes and two: I need the toilet. Both problems require me to move somehow and whilst I'm focused on this then at least I'm not trying to figure out last night.

I suspect I was a little too drunk.

I last remember downing shots in central Hotten but I couldn't say what time that was or the name of the bar. It was dark outside that much I know but considering its early November that doesn't do much to indicate as it's dark by half four now.

I take a deep breath but have to pause mid take as a wave of pain over comes my head and that imaginary sadistic person squeezing it lets loose. I groan loudly because I can't contain the sound, and the pressure in my bladder is calling me but I don't dare move.

"Jackson," I hear a soft tap on my door and it creaks open a bit, Aaron peers his head through and whilst it's a most welcome sight, it's also too painful to look at him.

"Jackson died."

I've closed my eyes tightly, waiting for Aaron to say something in response but he only pushes the door forward, entering my room, I wait a moment and when he still doesn't speak I creak an eye open. He's stood in his underwear and a vest top, has a mismatched pair of socks on and is also wrapped in the blanket that usually sits on the back of our sofa.

"I don't remember getting home last night."

Aaron's looking at me very seriously, which worries me further – he doesn't seem angry just thoughtful, "please tell me I didn't do anything bad last night." He looks as if he's going to say something but before he gets the words out a fresh pulse of pain hits my head and I curl into myself, "I hurt, I've never been in so much pain."

It's true as well, whilst I enjoy going out drinking, I've always been fairly responsible and I can't remember a time that I drank so much that I forgot the evening and I know I've never been sick before. The confirmation of me being sick comes into focus as I turn over, there's a bucket on the floor with unappealing looking content in the bottom, it makes me feel about to throw up again, "please remove that bucket."

Aaron's eyeing it wearily and I can't really blame him for holding back. He's not very good at the whole nurse maid bit; he has little sympathy for people with genuine illness' let alone self-induced ones. I doubt it's compassion that eventually makes him pick it up, more a desire to rid the smell from the room and he returns a few minutes later.

"I have been drinking since I was 15, that's eight years of not once throwing up, ruined it."

"You won't do that again will you," he's still standing over me with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "Why are you wrapped in that?"

"Slept on the sofa last night."

"Why?"

"Room stunk of sick."

I pause trying to look apologetic, which isn't easy in my condition, "If you open the window to let some fresh air in the room then you can come back to bed and look after me."

Aaron's shifting on the spot and he looks like he wants to make a getaway, so I try through the pain in my head and the pain in my full bladder to reach out my hand to him, he backs a way slightly.

"I'm going back to Smithy to get showered and changed."

"You annoyed at me aren't you," he stands there sucking on his bottom lip, "did I do something last night?" I wrack my brain to try to drudge up a memory but I'm drawing blanks, "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you being weird?"

He shrugs and I notice him squaring his shoulders defensively, "I'm not being weird." But I can read Aaron like the back of my hand and I know him better than anyone. He has several distinct stages when he's angry at something. Firstly his jaw tightens and you can see the little muscle there clenching, after that he'll square off his shoulders and then the rest of his body will tense. And then he'll drop his head slightly as if he's talking down to you and he'll do this even if you're taller. The final thing and this is when you're really in trouble is when he curls his hands into a fist; it's then that it's best to leave it.

But at least with all these stages there is a chance to talk him down and whilst on numerous occasions he's reached the jaw tightening phase with me it's never gone further. Not that I believe he'd ever hit me anyway, unless you count the punch in the pub but that was pure terrified instinct that made him lash out, so I don't.

What I don't know now is whether he's being defensive because I actually did something wrong last night or because I'm questioning him. Aaron doesn't like anyone asking him anything, a simple 'how was your day' and you're lucky if you get a 'fine' in response. And anything that requires him to make a decision or share an opinion is completely out of the question. I don't think he's planned a single meal we've had together and when we watch the news I like to ask him his opinion but he always gives me non answers. It's frustrating beyond belief and considering how much time we spend together I wonder how we manage to make conversation. Actually I don't think 'we' do, I think 'I' do and Aaron just listens.

Although at least he does listen.

"I'm fine." He's dropped the blanket and starts reaching for his clothes and normally I wouldn't let things go but I'm to damaged to chase up an explanation. This is an indication of how lousy I feel, because leaving things and walking away (or lying still in this case) is not usually my style. Especially in this relationship, I sometimes have to pry explanations from his lips and I have to walk him through things quite often, I'm more of a teacher than a boyfriend, sometimes. Example one: before I moved into Dale View Aaron was being very difficult about it and made me doubt my decision. I thought he didn't want me in the village and that led me to having doubts that he liked me as much as I liked him. It turns out that all he was worried about was people hearing us during sex, a problem that didn't previously exist because I lived alone, but it took me long enough to get the explanation. Example two: One afternoon Aaron thought that a woman in the coffee shop was frowning at us because we were gay – he was going through his usually stages of anger and had reached the squaring of the shoulders. I had to walk him through the fact that we were doing nothing to indicate we were a couple, she didn't know us therefor why would she jump to that conclusion. Finally I pointed out that the frown could have been about anything and it really was a big leap to think it was related to us, he backed down after a 10 minute argument.

"Are you coming back?"

"Yeah," Aaron doesn't seem so certain of his answer and I need something more definitive. "When, half an hour?"

"Yeah," he shrugs again and reverses towards the door; I don't believe he's going to come back.

"Can I get a kiss good bye?"

Aaron pauses in the door way and curls his lips, "You stink of sick." My immediate response is to want to laugh but my head won't allow that much movement so I just grimace instead. I can't blame him, I wouldn't want to kiss me right now either.

"By then," I call when he disappears and I hate the uneasy feeling that his departure has left, "Could you go to the toilet for me?" It's my last feeble attempt at humour to make him relax but I hear him reach the bottom of the stairs before my sentence is finished, damn.

It's then that I can't ignore my bladder any longer and I begin to roll out of bed with as much dignity as I can muster, the pain is excruciating and I feel that the room is spinning, I think I only made it to the bathroom by bouncing of the walls. Whilst peeing I notice that Aaron's shoved the sick bucket in the shower without emptying it and as much as it pisses me off that he can't do even one thing for me, I can also understand, it is my sick. 'Fine' I mutter whilst pressing my nose into the crook of my elbow, trying to block the smell, but to be honest it's no better than the sick. I really don't want Ryan and Andy to have to see this so I wash out the bucket, trying not to be sick again by all the chunks at the bottom. I then rinse my mouth out and I'm rewarded by feeling marginally better. Once back in my room I'm able to fix my other problem by drawing the curtain and blocking the sun.

I hope that Aaron really will be only half an hour, I'm not sure how much fun all day I'll be in this state but I hate being hungover alone. I also don't like the idea of him being over at Smithy alone whilst there is obviously something wrong. Aaron thinking can be dangerous and I don't mean that in a funny way, he lets things go around in his head until they're transformed into a bigger problem and then he tries to deal with it. The biggest example of this is his suicide attempt and whilst I don't think we're even close to this, I'm still concerned. A message ping on my phone sounds and I reach for where it sits on my bed side draw even though I don't remember putting it there, it's my mate Dan, message reads:

YOU NEVER CAME BACK. TAKE IT YOU WERE REWARDED BIG FOR THE CHIPS ;)

I don't have a clue what he's talking about but the word 'chips' is creating some kind of dim recall and I need to know what it means.

"Yo Jackson," Dan's clear voice answers after the third ring and I squint against his unnaturally chirpy sound.

"Why are you so happy?"

Dan just laughs on the other end, "You feeling rough this morning?"

I bring my hand up to massage my forehead, "You have no idea, you?"

"I was when I first woke up." I pull my phone back realising that I have no idea of the time and check the screen, it reads nine-thirty, "It's not too bad now."

"Lucky you," I respond bitterly.

"So how did the chips go down?"

"Please explain because I have no idea what you're talking about."

It's then that Dan chuckles and he takes a moment to stop, "A group of us stopped off at Stevies Chippy –"

"- We hate Stevies Chippy, the food there tastes like shit."

"- Well last night you thought they did the best chips ever."

I close my eyes, I really was drunk.

"You were going on about how amazing they were and that you needed to buy some for Aaron, apparently he's a connoisseur of 'the chip'.

I groan because that is exactly the kind of thing I would think, you have no idea how much the guy is on my mind. I love Aaron, I know I love Aaron and I think I've loved him since the day we meet. I know what people will say, there's no such thing as 'love at first sight' only 'lust' and I always agreed until I meet Aaron. He was rude, uncomfortable and twitchy but when I realised he'd left his phone at Bar West, I saw this as a sign – and I don't usually look for signs. Since that first meeting I haven't gone a day without thinking about him and in the beginning it was just looking for excuses to see him and conveniently I had work in the area. I'm a guy who knows what he wants and will happily go for it and more than anything I wanted Aaron, it didn't matter that he wasn't 'out'; I saw this as a minor problem. Of cause it didn't work out so great but even after he punched me I couldn't get him from my brain, the day before we'd kissed and I'd never felt so happy in my life and so however angry I was that lovely memory always permeated. And so now everyday he is on my mind, I am not me, I am a 'we', shall we have this? Shall we go there? He's absolutely everything to me.

I only wish I could tell him. Well I do every day and if Aaron wasn't so skittish, I'd even say it out loud.

"Right, so then what."

"I don't know mate, you climbed into a taxi with a portion of chips and said you'd be back."

I close my eyes tightly, "I didn't come back did I?"

"No."

"Shit"

I can tell Dan's grinning on the other end of the phone, "No worries, we ended up I a strip joint anyway and all got a lap dance, not really your scene mate."

I appreciate Dan consoling me even though he's mistaken my reason for being worried. This clears up Aaron's issue a little; it means I definitely did something last night to upset him, "I'll see you tomorrow, Dan."

It's been over half an hour now and Aaron still hasn't return and I know he's not going to, even when I try to call him the phone continues to dial. I'm desperately trying to remember more of last night because forewarned is forearmed but I can't, my only option is to go and find him but I still stink of sick. I need a shower.

The shower is a painful experience and whilst the cool water feels wonderful, standing upright is a mission, I can only hope that Aaron is the first place I look because I'm not sure I'm capable of a long distance commute. Once dressed (and I use that phrase lightly as socks are a mission so I abandon them and I couldn't handle the struggle of finding underwear) I make my way down stairs still groaning as I do. The house is quiet and I know Andy is working at the moment but Ryan could be anywhere, he might even be asleep so I try to make it down the stairs quietly but still end up bouncing between the wall and the bannister.

I'm stopped at the bottom of the stairs by the front door handle turning and I pause hoping It's Aaron come back, it isn't, it's Adam and he has the biggest grin on his face.

"Alright lad!" He's looking at me knowingly and tuts, shaking his head, "You are a legend!"

Ok so what ever happened last night, Adam saw it as well.

He cheekily leaps onto the sofa and folds his arms behind his head and I plonk down on the opposite seat, "I don't remember a thing."

"Aaron not told you?"

"No he's at home having a shower."

"Oh," and he rubs his hands together gleefully, "well then sit back and allow me to weave a tale so extraordinary you won't believe your ears."

I glare at him as much as possible in my current condition and fold my arms, "just the truth will do."

He stops and licks his lips and I know he's trying to build anticipation but it's just filling me with dread, "you stopped by at the pub last night." I exhale because this isn't going to end well. "You brought Aaron chips." I close my eyes. "You were wearing a bra with apples stuffed down them." Oh yeah I'd forgotten about the apples. "You arm wrestled with Zak." I'm shaking my head, "And you told everyone in the pub how much Aaron meant to you whilst also telling him he was beautiful."

The nauseous feeling has returned and it has nothing to do with alcohol.

"Shit."

Adam's eyes widen in surprise and he sits forward, "it's not that bad."

I just look at him like he's gone mad, he knows his best friend, knows what he's like, "me draped over Aaron in front of everyone, you know he can't handle that." And Aaron really can't, he'll barely walk next to me in the street without ensuring there's a sensible gap between, anything to ensure we don't give away our relationship. The only time I get any intimacy with him is when we are truly alone and even then conditions have to be right, either when he's too tired to realise what he's doing, just after sex because he's stupidly pleased with himself or after an argument. Any other time I'm lucky to get an intimate smile.

"No really I think he's ok."

"Well he's run off."

"I thought he was getting a shower?"

"That was an excuse; he couldn't get out fast enough."

Adam frowns at me, "In the pub he wasn't too happy but he got over it."

I need to go and speak to him, I know how private Aaron is, I know he hates that kind of attention, My head still pounds but it's lost its intensity since hearing about my antics – doubt has clouded it, "this isn't good."

"Seriously mate, he was really, really ok with you when I left."

"Maybe he was putting it on for you?" I watch Adam look up and I know he's recalling a memory, then a small smile fleets his lips, "definitely wasn't pretending."

"Why,"

He's got a knowing smile plastered on his face, "I helped get you to bed, he was fine."

"Yeah," I look at him doubtfully.

"he was being…," Adam holds back, reluctant to let the words leave his mouth and then squints awkwardly, "…sweet."

I can't help but sit up straight at that, "Sweet?"

"Yeah, romantic…"

This doesn't make sense, "Aaron?"

Adam holds up his hands, "hay he can't be that bad otherwise you wouldn't put up with him and last night I got to see it with my own eyes." He's right I wouldn't and I know that Aaron does have it in him, it's his beautiful sweet side that makes me put I'm with the bullshit. In truth I'm probably not being fair to him because the bullshit doesn't come even nearly as often as I'm making out, "yeah, I just can't believe he'd show in front of you."

Adam winks at me, "stranger things."

His words have mollified me slightly and I feel a little more confident whilst heading over to Aaron's. Maybe Adam is right, he said that Aaron wasn't annoyed with me although apparently he hadn't seen him whilst I was throwing up, but then what has that got to do with my public display of affection? My heads a complete muddle and the effort it takes to head up the road is torture, I just want to stay in bed – preferable with Aaron but unless I find him it probably won't happen. At the front door I pause, I'm not so sure about confronting the lion in his den. I know how much Aaron struggles with his sexuality and I'm not sure he will ever be at the point where he feels comfortable telling other people. Last night I essentially 'outed him' and what if he thinks this is only the beginning? I'd never want him to feel uncomfortable, I'd never force him into anything, and I'm not one of those people whose sexuality is there most prominent trait. What if this is what he's thinking? Last night I was dressed in drag, maybe he's wondering 'what's next'. I'm at the door and my hands ready to turn the handle but I don't think I can handle this, I'm in no state to be broken up with, I don't have the energy to convince Aaron not to finish things. I'm stood there seriously thinking about retreat, about recovering and then seeing him later once I feel well enough, except the door handle is turning beneath my fingers and it's not me who's twisting it.

The door opens and I confronted by a vision full of Paddy, he looks shocked for a second but quickly recovers and grins at me, "Reports of your death were greatly exaggerated then?"

I shove my hands into my pockets and look at him sheepishly, "Looks like it."

"I'm off on a call out," he smiles and then moves pass me tapping me gently on the arm with his newspaper, "Pearl told me all about your shenanigans last night, wish I'd of been there." and he's chuckling as he moves off and my eyes follow him for moment, except I can't do that for long because I need to do what I set out to.

What I hadn't expected was that Aaron would be standing at the bottom of the stairs looking straight at me, he has a raised eyebrow and not the friendliest expression and I take a deep breath before stepping in.

"Thought you were dead for the day?"

It's a start, because I had expected to be ignored, "I've been resurrected," I hold my arms out in a weak 'ta da' fashion and he narrows his eyes.

"They did a rubbish job."

"Yeah, can I come in?"

Aaron suddenly realises where he's stood and reverses into the kitchen to give me room, he's still not smiling but he hasn't shut the door in my face so I'm not sure where I stand.

"Didn't think you would get out of bed today."

"I wanted to see you."

He's looking at me like I've lost my head and it's making me nervous, "I said I'd be back." I hadn't expected him to say that.

"Yeah in half an hour, it's been over an hour." Now he's got a 'wierded out' look on his face and I realise how I'm sounding, I'm sounding like those needy people that have to know where their boyfriends are at all times. This was never my intention and I know I quickly need to explain myself, "I thought you were annoyed at me because of last night and might not come back."

Aaron's relaxed slightly, "Oh right, I told you I'm fine."

And suddenly I need to sit down because the strain of functioning is causing my heavily alcoholed body to stop working, "I know but when you say your fine it usually means you're not." Aaron pulls the chair at his dining table out and I fall heavily into it, resting my head in my hands, In front of me I notice a massive fry up and a roll of cooking foil, I look up questioningly.

"Paddy made us breakfast, he said it would help you recover. I was gonna wrap it up and bring it over."

I look at him in complete surprise, "Adam's been round and told me what I did last night!"

He crosses his arms and shakes his head, "right."

"And everything is fine?"

"Yeah."

"And you made me breakfast?"

He tilts his head slightly to the side, "Paddy made it, I'm just the delivery boy."

"But why were you weird earlier?"

"I wasn't, you stunk of sick, so did your room and I could smell it on me, I needed a shower."

I want to laugh, because sometimes it really is about sick.

I feel giddy and light headed as the tension drains out of me, "Aaron," I say as I grab the sleeve of his arm and pull him closer, "Why aren't you annoyed at me?"

He grins and shakes his head, "What up with you eh? Since when have you liked it when I kick off?"

"I know but buy all accounts I wouldn't have blamed you after last night, I must have really embarrassed you."

Aaron's looking to the floor and I still have his sleeve gripped, his other hand is stuffed deep into his pocket, "Well yeah you did," he looks uncomfortable but I appreciate this more than him getting angry, "Just stick to men's clothes from now on."

"Ok," I pull him a little closer

"Oh," and his head shots up, "and you told everyone you thought I was beautiful – don't do that again."

"Deal."

We stand for a second smiling at each other, and I know that this has taken it out of me because I need to return to the horizontal position, "Aaron I need to go back to bed."

He nods towards the breakfast, "what about that?"

"I'll eat it in bed."

"you can stay here, you room smells too much."

"Really", I say because the idea of climbing into a fresh, vomit free bed is too appealing.

"Yeah, you've showered right?"

"I have."

"Right, get up to my bed then."

He's got a smile on his face and I'm surprised at his playfulness, it's in moments like these that I realise how far we've come, "Aaron livesy are you propositioning me?"

Aaron just cocks an eyebrow at me, "didn't think you were in any state for that."

"I'm not," and then I grab his other sleeve as well, "but I could just lie there whilst you do stuff to me?"

He just snorts amused and shakes his head.

"I also didn't bother with underwear, so that should make things easier."

Aaron's still smiling and he licks his lips, he really is beautiful but I'm going to keep to my promise and not tell him, "Oh and I did one other thing before I left the house." He raises his eye brow in question, "I brushed my teeth – give us a kiss."

He stops a moment and looks at me and then leans in.


End file.
